Take Your Mind on a Walk
Why training your brain isn't that different from training your dog.
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And for every subscription today I’ll give Delilah, my dog, a good pat and a training treat.
So there’s your good-karma button for the day.
Now onto this story and strategy on meditation and brain training.
My face is often cut and scratched.
When people notice they ask why I look like I’ve been crawling through bushes.
Then, when I tell them that the cuts are from my dog, Delilah, they think she must be a terror.
She is and isn’t.
It depends on which dog you get that day.
I used to think that which dog I get comes down to mood or chance, or worse yet that I was doomed to her at her worst.
But then I realized there’s one simple thing that determines whether I’m going to catch paws today or not.
And that thing is something that all people have in common with dogs.
Did we walk, or not?
Pretty simple.
But sometimes, it’s Winter.
Sometimes, it’s raining.
Sometimes, I just don’t want to.
But Delilah doesn’t care about any of those things.
She loves the snow. She’s not a fan of rain but loves walking more than she hates the rain. And she always wants to walk, because, really, she needs to.
It’s optional for me if we go on the walk or not, but for her, it’s not optional.
She needs to.
And if she doesn’t, all that energy gets pent up… and needs to go somewhere.
Usually in my direction.
And look, I own my own business, so I have the time and none of the excuses to help her get what she needs.
The other benefit of that is I spend every hour of the day most days with her, so I get to see the difference in if we walk or not.
The difference is night and day.
When we don’t walk she has too much energy, she runs me down every time I step out of my office, and becomes a doggy Evel Knievel.
But when we do walk, even if just for 30 minutes, she’s satisfied.
And more than that she’s happy—smiling all day.
She’s grateful—sitting as close as she can to you in the evenings, bringing you offerings.
She’s more playful, more present, and not trying to herd you out the door.
Seeing the differences each day makes it easy for me to commit to her daily walk.
And when the weather is bad, or I don’t want to, I know exactly what I get when I take her on a walk, so it’s worth it for me.
That gets me to do it.
And after a few weeks of daily walking, she’s a different dog.
A happier, healthier, and more fun dog.
Now, it feels like we’ve gotten ahead of something she needs, and it’s evolved into something we can do that will guarantee that she is better in all ways for it.
And that makes it something that’s easy to say yes to.
So we walk, but obviously, Delilah is not much of a talker. And my girlfriend isn’t a morning person, so even though she joins us on the walks, she’s also pretty quiet.
So I walk and think.
Today I thought about how we’re not that different.
Walks are pretty good for me, too, but they don’t solve all my problems.
I wasn’t out there snow or shine, every day, saying ‘Hi’ to the neighbors, until I did it for her.
While walks are good, the thing that guarantees that I’m going to be better in all ways for it is meditation.
Spoiler alert: the same is true for you.
I’ve meditated for 10+ years and am pretty consistent, but I, like Delilah, feel best when I take my brain on a walk daily.
And this year the way I’ve been able to stay more consistent with my practice is by tacking my meditation onto the back of our morning walk.
I don’t like waking up and immediately going to sit down—it feels like my body has atrophied for 8 hours and it needs to move before it’s going to like being still again.
But now, it works.
We walk, and I welcome the sit down to center before starting the day.
She gets what she needs, I get what I need and the day is won right as it starts.
She’s happier, more grateful, and playful—and so am I.
And because I know how good the walk is for her, I do it without question.
But when it’s just me and my meditation, of course, I question it.
I think most people do—no one really wants to sit or lay down, to control their thoughts, and focus their attention.
That sounds insane when you have things to do.
Especially first thing after sleeping, when there are a hundred other interesting things I’m excited about that I have to delay to meditate.
For that reason for me…
Meditation never really gets easier.
This may be controversial and not what anyone wants to hear if you’re new to meditation, or even if you’ve been meditating for a while and want to be more consistent.
I’ve meditated for 10+ years, so you would think I would know better.
That I’d have enough days in the memory bank to know what days went well and which didn’t, to know for certain the benefits of meditation, enough for it to be intrinsically motivating.
But I can say meditation doesn’t really get easier.
The habit gets easier.
But what you experience in meditation isn’t about easy, or hard, it’s about being there for it, or not.
If you delay that long enough, it’s definitely hard.
If you do it daily, you can get ahead of it and it feels easier.
But it’s not actually easier.
You’re just meeting your needs at the same time you need to, and not getting stuck for days, weeks, or months until you sit down and meditate.
Also, you can still sit down to meditate and not get anything out of it—not be fully there.
Same as you can go to the gym, and even lift weights—but not get the physique you want. Focus, presence, and intention—those things matter.
In working out it’s easy to not bring those into the workout with you because that means focusing on the pain of exercise until it becomes joy.
That stuff sucks until it doesn’t.
Meditations are like that too.
Focusing on what’s coming to mind, usually isn’t pleasant, until it becomes joyful.
It’s like an old pipe, a bunch of muck is going to come out first, before the good stuff.
Meditating isn’t about hard or easy, it’s about feeling, perceiving, and processing what’s there today and letting it get out of the way.
Which will always be different.
Meditation helps you perceive those differences, and move past them, when you treat it less like a habit or hobby and more like something that you need to do, for you.
Meditate like a dog walks.
You can meditate with different qualities of awareness.
So, it’s not just what you see when you’re there, but also how you approach it.
The difference is like the difference in how I experience the morning walk and how Delilah does. And maybe that’s why she gets so much out of it than me.
To me, the path we walk is basically the same each day.
Maybe there are a couple of variations in the routes we take but largely it’s the same walk.
But not for Delilah.
She doesn’t squint behind cheap sunglasses as I do, barely able to tell where the sidewalk ends and the road starts, coming to and craving coffee—she’s smelling every stain and smiling at every creature she sees.
To her, each walk is like a brand-new experience.
It’s not the same route each day, she’s getting something different out of it each time.
She may recognize spots, usually where her friends live, but she always finds something to be excited about.
Meditation is my time for the same.
To get what I need.
And I get the most out of it when I treat it like she treats her walks—taking the same path, but seeing something new each time.
Your brain doesn’t want to think the same thoughts every day.
But it does.
Research from Dr. Fred Luskin of Standford University, and Author of Forgive for Good, shows that a human being has approximately 60,000 thoughts per day and 90% of them are repetitive.
Among these thoughts are problems your subconscious is trying to solve, stories it’s telling, and signals that need your attention—all on a loop.
Until you give them the attention they need so you can let them go.
But the kind of attention you give them matters.
Not, “Let’s do this and get through this.”
Or, “After this, I’ll…”
But genuine curiosity for what’s new along that same old path.
If you ignore your thoughts long enough, your brain, like a cooped-up dog will revolt and lash out—bringing out the worst in you.
But if you take it on a walk each day, you’ll be better in all ways for it.
How do you care for what you love and own?
A dog and a brain aren’t that different. They both have needs. They both have pre-dispositions. They both can be trained to do just about anything.
You own them both, but you don’t possess either of them.
You have to care for them to thrive.
And if they don’t that’s your responsibility.
Some days it’s easier than others.
But rain or shine a happy dog is one that’s been for a walk.
And whether you feel like it today or not, a happy mind is one that's meditated.
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